Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

Chapter 172: Ancestral Dragon, War!

The conflict between the red dragon and white dragon had come to an end here.

Garoth, whose training had been interrupted, still felt unsatisfied. Since the white dragon was in decent condition, he invited her to continue assisting with his exercises.

The red dragon Samantha's injuries weren't severe either.

She insisted on joining.

The more the merrier—Garoth naturally wouldn't refuse.

The two dragons, one red and one white with opposing attributes, simultaneously attacked Garoth, subjecting him to alternating waves of scorching heat and freezing cold.

Occasionally,

when struck by particularly fierce blows, Garoth would grunt softly. The mutually antagonistic red and white dragons secretly competed to see who could leave deeper marks on Garoth and elicit stronger reactions from him.

Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!

Amidst the swirling steam from clashing fire and ice, the figures of the three dragons flickered in and out of view. The sounds of colliding scales, claws, and tails echoed continuously, accompanied by showers of crimson sparks.Time passed gradually this way.

As dusk deepened, the fading sunlight cast its glow upon Dragon Valley, setting the lake's surface ablaze with shimmering ripples.

Garoth's physical training session concluded for now.

Samantha panted heavily, on the verge of collapsing, but upon noticing the white dragon nearby, she stubbornly maintained her stance. Adult dragons possessed greater stamina and magical energy reserves, remaining in better condition.

Garoth stretched his body, producing a series of crisp cracking sounds.

His explosive scales, now covered in intricate cracks from the dual assault, resembled fragile porcelain at first glance. Yet unlike before, they hadn't shattered explosively during the intense battle.

This was thanks to Garoth's improved control and the cooling effect of the white dragon's frost.

However, while effective, the frost presented another issue.

"If this cold continues affecting me, what form will my explosive scales' next adaptive evolution take?"

Garoth pondered silently, realizing the next evolutionary step might deviate from his desired path of energy storage/feedback or single massive discharge.

"Evolution branches endlessly."

"I can't precisely control its direction—only influence it broadly."

The young dragon shook his head imperceptibly, thinking: "No matter. All evolution occurring within me is beneficial. Even if it doesn't follow my exact expectations, any advancement is good."

With this mindset, he stopped worrying.

Perhaps the evolutionary outcome would surpass his expectations?

The sound of beating wings approached from the horizon. Looking up, Garoth saw the flying dragons returning to Dragon Valley bathed in sunset hues.

Unlike when they'd departed,

the flying dragons now bore fresh battle scars.

Folding their wings, Tasha and several adult flying dragons descended into the valley, landing before Garoth's group.

Under Garoth's gaze, the flying dragon leader bowed her head and reported: "We were detected immediately upon reaching Bloodhoof Clan territory."

She detailed their mission:

The flying dragons had used cloud cover to conceal their approach, gliding silently toward Bloodhoof territory.

Yet unexpectedly, floating eye-like orbs patrolled the clan's airspace. Detection came instantly.

Then,

Shamans summoned giant eagle spirits, granting wings to elite warriors and captains.

Further enhanced by sorcerers, these formidable minotaurs took to the skies against the flying dragons.

While adept at aerial combat and more agile than the minotaurs, the flying dragons remembered Garoth's orders. After exposure, they disengaged immediately. Their pursuers, lacking innate flight capability, eventually descended as magical enhancements waned.

"Bal Bloodhoof."

"Did you see their clan's chieftain?"

Garoth inquired.

Tasha nodded apprehensively: "Our eyes met briefly across the distance. Though a minotaur, he radiated dragon-like majesty. Just standing there, he made me feel oppressed and fearful."

Garoth pondered this before asking: "Describe his exact appearance."

Tasha complied meticulously—the description matched centaur reports.

Samantha blinked in surprise: "Has this minotaur undergone demonic bloodline reversion?"

Garoth nodded slowly: "That's the only explanation."

Creatures with powerful ancestors carried reversion potential—even dragons.

Below draconic deities existed the ancestral dragons: mighty enigmas serving as dragon gods' right hands, the species' pillars, objects of reverence.

These first dragons created after the gods' emergence were born immortal, their bloodlines divine. Though lacking divine titles, their power rivaled minor deities.

Gifted dragons earning divine favor or possessing bloodline purification talent could theoretically revert to ancestral dragon blood.

In Bernardo's history,

before the Twenty-Four-Winged Gold Dragon's rise, a reverted black dragon—supreme among evil dragons—had emerged. A cruel, sinister death incarnate who mysteriously vanished.

Setting dragons aside,

minotaur bloodlines traced back to an Abyssal Plane lord—no ordinary ruler but the Beast Prince, a demonic duke holding divine rank, an utterly terrifying entity.

"Demonic reversion with high blood purity—certainly surpassing Elvy's pegasus lineage."

"Bloodhoof's chieftain might outpace my growth."

A sense of urgency gripped Garoth.

While dragons' longevity and innate power offered advantages, their slow maturation was an undeniable flaw. Despite Garoth's exceptional talent, his growth rate couldn't match short-lived species' prodigies—humans reaching legendary status in their twenties, whereas even dragon geniuses required a century.

Dragons' true edge lay in their limitless potential and peerless same-tier dominance—ultimate late-game entities. The challenge was surviving to reach that stage.

Crisis awareness sharpened within the young dragon.

Killing intent surged.

Instantly, Dragon Valley fell silent—even insects ceased chirping.

The red dragon, white dragon, and surrounding flying dragons all tensed, instinctively retreating half a step. Before them, Garoth seemed to shed all pretense, transforming into a bloodthirsty primordial beast exuding lethal menace from every scale.

Garoth inhaled deeply, regaining composure.

He wouldn't let bloodlust cloud judgment.

"Bloodhoof Clan expands aggressively. They've discovered Dragon Valley and our scouts..."

"A demon-blooded minotaur won't respect dragonkind."

"My dragon sleep approaches within two years. I must eliminate this threat first!"

"But recklessly charging in alone would be foolish."

"Bloodhoof has numerous shamans and sorcerers of considerable strength, plus multiple powerful captains beneath their chieftain."

"Therefore... we prepare for war. My vassal army shall prove its worth."

Garoth's gaze turned glacial. Without faerie dragon scale powder, his mind achieved razor focus—thoughts racing with unprecedented clarity.

As always during peril, the red iron dragon's psyche burned brilliantly when danger loomed, only settling once threats were neutralized.